stage moves and vocals. He entertained the audience with his high energy. He leapt off side stages, performed mic tricks, spins and slides. His stage performance mesmerized the crowd.
Perspiration glistened over his body. His mop of hair dripped with sweat. He whipped it to the side as he belted each note. He left every ounce of energy on stage, he held nothing back and the audience knew it. Peter peered out over the thousands of fans and watched as the lights iluminated different areas of the audience, revealing the enormous mass of humanity that the three brothers, Jamieson, held in a spel. The experience of sharing the personal music he created, never failed to intoxicate him.
# # #
Libby slunk low in her folding chair and buried her head in a copy of “The Great Gatsby”. What a dumb story. Why was it considered a classic? At least the book helped her appear a little less obvious as she sold tickets among the riotous noise of the commons area.
True to her word, Miss Orman expected her to sel bus tickets to the away footbal game that night. Some cheerleader should be stuck at the table, not her. Footbal sucked.
Nearby, the lunch ladies served up cardboard tasting pizza and watered down turkey soup. For the granola heads, limp lettuce awaited.
She’d sold a dozen or so tickets, but most of the students ignored her. Libby became invisible to them months earlier. Of course, she didn’t help the situation any by ever trying to fit in.
When she started school in Rockvile, her heart overflowed with grief and thoughts of the family she lost. Her withdrawn personality mistakenly convinced the kids she was emo, but even the emo kids found her eerily withdrawn. Libby’s only problem, she suffered grief. But everything changed the day Peter walked into her life.
Now al she could concentrate on was him and how unbelievable it was that he actualy wanted to see her again.
Since checking Peter out on the internet, she thought of nothing else. When they talked at Parfrey’s Glen, she thought he exaggerated the popularity of their band. In reality, he’d understated it.
She couldn’t imagine why he wanted to see her again on Saturday, but she wasn’t going to second guess his sanity. She could barely wait to lay eyes on him again and make sure she didn’t dream the whole thing up. The hours crept by so slowly, she wanted to scream. If only she could figure out a way to get his CD, then she could hear his voice and pretend he was near. She needed a connection to him, some way to get a little closer. But she had no money and no way to go to a store outside of school hours to buy it.
Aunt Marge insisted she spend al her time studying or at Parfrey’s Glen for the fresh air. She was paranoid Libby might do something remotely normal like get a job, have friends over, or god forbid have a date. Libby suspected her aunt possessed other motives, but it never bothered her until now. She was used to it.
Libby never questioned authority, she always gave in. She didn’t even care about not having a drivers license. It wasn’t worth the hassle.
A group of freshman girls walked up and bought tickets. They didn’t make any snide comments. They probably didn’t know her background.
“Thanks,” their chirpy little voices said.
“Yup,” Libby mumbled as they walked away.
Libby picked up the crinkled bils and smoothed them. Out of boredom she arranged them in the same direction. As she flipped the bils around, it dawned on her she held enough money to buy Peter’s CD. Her heart stopped for just a moment as she contemplated the thought.
Stealing is wrong.
She placed the bils in the metal cash box and closed it. She would not do it. She’d find another way.
Her determination wavered. The money would solve her problem so fast. No one would miss a few dolars. In the grand scheme of things seventeen dolars was nothing.
Never in her life had Libby taken anything from anyone, but this was different. Her aunt only gave her enough money for lunch, nothing more. If Libby needed clothing, her aunt drove her to the thrift store to pick out a couple items. It humiliated Libby to buy other people’s castoffs, but she couldn’t get a job and she didn’t have access to money. Now that she thought about it, she realized how much Aunt Marge controled her life and she didn’t